MARIA
My honoured mother, Sir, had no motive to melancholy; she married the man of her choice.
VAN ROUGH
The man of her choice! And pray, Mary, an't you going to marry the man of your choice—what trumpery notion is this? It is these vile books [throwing them away]. I'd have you to know, Mary, if you won't make young Van Dumpling the man of your choice, you shall marry him as the man of my choice.